


Portraits

by Biscuit Lion (cookiethelion)



Category: Fantastic Baby - BIGBANG (Music Video)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11018235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiethelion/pseuds/Biscuit%20Lion
Summary: When Hyun-tae had first designed his house, the idea of putting in hidden corridors had only been a novelty, almost a power trip for him—he was in charge of building his own house, he could put whatever he liked in!—but now, it felt odd that it had taken on a practical purpose too. Riots had disrupted their city for a fortnight now, but even when a very small group of rioters had broken into his house, he could slip into the corridor, make some noise and flick some light switches, and they thought his house was haunted!





	Portraits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HBingo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HBingo/gifts).



Hyun-tae couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Jin-hyuk’s owl; but when he did spot it soaring past his bedroom window, he dashed out into the hallway, went down the spiral staircase, and into the portrait gallery adjacent to the parlour. He stopped in front of a large, gilded portrait of a captain in a red coat, his ship battling a storm, and shoved the frame far enough to one side to reveal the entrance to a hidden corridor.

He jumped in, and then slid the portrait back until he was standing in darkness for a few seconds, before the LED lights above him turned on. He sighed, and turned around. When he'd first designed his house, the idea of putting in hidden corridors had only been a novelty, almost a power trip for him—he was in charge of building his own house, he could put whatever he liked in!—but now, it felt odd that it had taken on a practical purpose too. Riots had disrupted their city for a fortnight now, but even when a very small group of rioters had broken into his house, he could slip into the corridor, make some noise and flick some light switches, and they thought his house was haunted!

He walked two steps when he heard his medals clink, and rolled his eyes as he remembered he was wearing his replica military uniform. He unpinned each one, and gently placed them down on the floor. Then he thought he could hear the doors open, and he pressed his ear to the portrait. It took a few seconds before he realised Jin-hyuk was saying, “I’d forgotten how much Hyun-tae loves his paintings.”

“I can’t believe he never invited us around,” he heard Byung-ho say. Hyun-tae bit his lip; what was Jin-hyuk doing? “You know him better than us. What do you think?”

“Is he even in?” he heard Dong-hoon ask. Wait, was Jin-hyuk trying to reunite them all?

“I’m not sure,” said Jin-hyuk. “Let’s go upstairs. If his cape’s not there, then he’s out, and we’ll find Seung-chul first.”

Hyun-tae touched his shoulders, and gasped when he realised he had forgotten to grab his cape in his haste to hide. What he should have done was to run down the hidden corridor, and hope that he was faster than his friends; instead, his gut reaction was to try to kick the portrait open, but he managed to send two of his medals sliding out through the gap, and skidding to a halt on the floor outside.

He banged his head on the wall to his left just as he heard Jin-hyuk call for him in a higher, much brighter tone. He pocketed his remaining medals, pushed the portrait aside, and stepped out to see his friends with his teeth clenched.

Jin-hyuk was, as usual, dressed in a pinstriped suit, but he had also cut his hair, and it seemed the make-up around his left eye was to disguise the dark circles underneath. Byung-ho was in his monk’s robe, though the hems weren’t long enough to cover his jeans or the armour protecting his left arm. Dong-hoon stood next to him, wearing a purple suit that looked half a size too small, given how he could see the faint outline of his muscular arms, and a six-pack he had developed since they last met.

“What do you want?” said Hyun-tae.

“To see you,” said Jin-hyuk. “I thought I’d show Byung-ho and Dong-hoon around as well. I hope you don’t mind?”

Hyun-tae pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. He heard Jin-hyuk laugh, but he flinched when his friend then patted him on his forearm.

“I knew you’d be pleased,” said Jin-hyuk. “We need to go upstairs anyway. You must’ve got those jackets by now.”

“What jackets?” said Dong-hoon.

“Oh, you know,” said Jin-hyuk as he maintained eye contact with Hyun-tae, like he had asked the question. “I said we needed a uniform, and you said you knew a designer.”

Hyun-tae rolled his eyes, and gestured at the direction of the front doors. He said, “Are you serious? So much is happening right now, and all you care about are some clothes?”

Jin-hyuk shrugged. “Haute couture costs a fortune. Let’s not waste it.”

Byung-ho stepped forward, like he was about to break up a fight, and stared at Jin-hyuk as he said, “You haven’t told him about your plans yet.”

“Oh, right, knew I forgot something. Come on—” Jin-hyuk grabbed Hyun-tae’s hand, which the latter slipped free at the same time. “—I’ll tell you on the way up. Byung-ho and Dong-hoon’ll join us once they’re done checking we’re alone.”

Knowing that it was better to listen to his friend than attempt to defy him, Hyun-tae crossed his arms and followed Jin-hyuk out of the room. He paid attention to what Jin-hyuk was telling him—that he felt responsible for starting the riots, given how it had spilled over from King Club, the nightclub that the five of them had started and watched over; and now, a fortnight on from their temporary disbandment, Jin-hyuk was seeking them all out again to try and reign the rioting back in somehow.

“What’s the use of gathering us together?” said Hyun-tae when they were walking up the stairs. “You don’t even know if Seung-chul wants to join us, or what you’re going to do once he does.”

“Well—” Jin-hyuk wrung his hands together. “—I was thinking of producing a special song.”

“Sure, like that’s going to help.”

“It’s better than doing nothing.”

Jin-hyuk frowned. “Do you remember what was playing when it all kicked off?”

Hyun-tae nodded. Jin-hyuk had been working on a new track, and decided to give it a go at King Club. To their ears, it had sounded like any standard club track; but Byung-ho had been the first to notice that the punters had slowed into an awkward movement pattern, like they’d forgotten in a beat how to dance. They’d tried to tell Jin-hyuk to cut the track, but they’d barely got a word in when the punters spilled out of the club, and so began the riots.

“It’s better than doing nothing,” said Jin-hyuk.

“Barely anyone knows about King Club,” said Hyun-tae. “All the media sees are people in black hoodies and white masks disturbing the public by playing music too loudly, and then overturning cars and setting things on fire when someone objects.”

“At least _I’m_ trying to do something.”

Hyun-tae stopped and gripped the handrail. He watched Jin-hyuk reach the landing, and then turn around like he had just realised what he’d implied.

“What happened to my fearless gambling partner?” said Jin-hyuk in a softer tone; and Hyun-tae knew that was the closest he would get to an apology.

“He grew up,” he said. He didn’t mean to tighten his grip or shrug his shoulders higher, but then he was finding it just as hard to loosen up.

“What, in the house he built with his winnings?”

“Didn’t you want those jackets?” said Hyun-tae, as he used his free hand to grip his other wrist and, after a pause, he let go of the handrail. Without waiting for an answer, he caught up with Jin-hyuk, and led the way into his bedroom.

The jackets were in the wardrobe, but Hyun-tae was more interested in his cape, which was hanging off the back of the chair that was tucked into his desk. As he retrieved his cape from across the room, he heard the wardrobe doors creak open, and the faint click of hangers being taken off the rail.

“Next time you see your designer friend, pass my love to him,” said Jin-hyuk.

Hyun-tae didn’t answer as he swung his cape over his back, and shrugged until it fitted. He pulled his medals out of his pockets and pinned them back on; and only then turned around to see Jin-hyuk laying out the jackets onto his bed. Each one had an equal split of floral print and plain black leather, but that was as far as uniformity went—and even then, Jin-hyuk had pushed it by covering all but a strip at the hem with the florals. There weren’t any tags to identify the other four jackets, but Hyun-tae noticed his friend had laid them down in order of their seats from left to right at King Club.

“I can’t believe you never showed these to us,” said Jin-hyuk, while he took off his jacket.

“I couldn’t,” said Hyun-tae. “The riots started the day after these were delivered. What was I meant to do, go running around looking for you?” He started when he saw Jin-hyuk glare at him. “Oh, don’t you even—no, don’t.”

“Have you seen the state of your parlour? Or your front room? I thought you’d moved house.”

Hyun-tae grunted, and picked up his jacket. He couldn’t remember asking for the body to be black, but he did recall requesting the prints in yellow and purple, looking like a crossover between Jin-hyuk’s and Byung-ho’s colours.

“Hyun-tae,” said Jin-hyuk, “come with us, yeah? You’ve got see me and Byung-ho and Dong-hoon and Seung-chul again. Talk to them. Talk to me.”

At that point, Hyun-tae raised an eyebrow. “I’d talk more if you actually let me get a word in.”

Jin-hyuk chuckled, and tried to pat Hyun-tae on the shoulder, except the latter dodged him by walking over to his wardrobe. He meant to shut the doors, except he noticed that two glasses cases had been left open; and when he spun around to ask Jin-hyuk, he saw him put on sunglasses with a pink rim that matched his jacket. In his hand was a folded pair of lens-free frames with a thin, transparent, blue-ish-white frame—and it took him a second longer to recall that it had been given to him on his last birthday by Jin-hyuk, who’d been persisting the week before that he’d look good in glasses. The most he’d ever done with them was to try them on once; for the rest of the time, the frames had sat in its case, unopened.

“I didn’t ask you to raid my wardrobe,” said Hyun-tae.

“Everything you wear needs to match,” said Jin-hyuk as he too walked over to the wardrobe. “I haven’t seen you wear these in ages.”

To Hyun-tae, that really should have been his warning to move. Instead, he let Jin-hyuk put the glasses on him—and when Jin-hyuk then flattened his hair so the front strands fell down like a fringe, he smacked his friend’s hand away, and took his glasses off as he walked over to the nearest window.

“You might as well start packing your bag today,” said Jin-hyuk. We’re going to find Seung-chul tomorrow.”

Hyun-tae walked over to the nearest window, and looked down. He could see a section of his front garden, and found himself staring at the top of Byung-ho and Dong-hoon’s heads. Jin-hyuk’s owl was perched on Byung-ho’s clothed arm, and they seemed to be more occupied with petting the owl than looking for any hiding rioters.

“We should check on the others,” said Hyun-tae.

“Good idea. Are you alright to leave the house?”

Hyun-tae glanced over his shoulder. “Who said I wasn’t?”

Jin-hyuk shrugged. “Just checking.”

Hyun-tae smiled at his friend’s concern. He could manage his front garden, he was sure; and even though he hadn’t actually been outside for a fortnight, he at least had someone else with him again. As he followed Jin-hyuk out of his room, he tried to convince himself to stay calm, but he barely spoke as they descended down the stairs again.

They went through another set of doors that lead them to the entrance hall. Byung-ho and Dong-hoon hadn’t shut the main doors behind them; and Hyun-tae momentarily hesitated when he noticed how the gold painted door frame looked rather like a portrait frame, especially with the curvature around the corners.

Normally, he would have stopped longer to admire the frame—a picture of a mildly unkempt front lawn, basking in sunshine, protected further by a wall that encased the whole house. He began taking in deeper breaths as he approached his front doors at the same speed as Jin-hyuk; and he quietly chuckled as he stepped through his front doors, with his friend by his side.


End file.
